


El Tango de Langa (side a): diamonds and why men buy them

by angelcult



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Albino Hasegawa Langa, Biting, Blood Drinking, Chinen Miya being Helpful, Easter Eggs, Falling In Love, Friends to Enemies, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Making Out, POV Alternating, Title from a Moulin Rouge song, Title from a Pierce The Veil song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29704434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcult/pseuds/angelcult
Summary: It was a mutual want between Adam and Langa, they each needed something from the other. As they become entangled and ensnared, Langa finds himself losing the one person he considered home and he’s left to pick up the pieces.
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Shindo Ainosuke | Adam
Comments: 23
Kudos: 108





	El Tango de Langa (side a): diamonds and why men buy them

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this before episode seven aired but I’ve taken some bits and pieces from the episode after watching since it fit in so well with the original plot! Enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: I can’t believe I forgot this little tidbit but I definitely recommend listening to either Diamonds and Why Men Buy Them by Pierce The Veil or El Tango de Roxanne from Moulin Rouge while reading!

It’s a dance, it’s the gliding of his feet and hands and sending the heart ramping up,  _ that’s  _ what skating is for Adam. His board never betrays him, it’s like an extension of himself, he’s swift-footed and sure whenever he’s on it.

Until Langa, of course.

_ Langa,  _ who stares at him in curiosity and not fear.  _ Langa,  _ who watched Adam nearly kill his friend and didn’t want blood in retribution, the thought of getting even didn’t seem to cross his mind.  _ Langa,  _ who could match Adam step for step, who could manipulate his board with the same finesse and grace, one step for every one that Adam took. He was  _ more  _ than a worthy opponent.

Adam didn’t know what else to call it but love.

In the brief moments before Kikuchi swings the car through the track and Langa and Adam stop their race, he pins the boy, presses him against the cold ground and kisses him hard.

In response, Langa doesn’t kick or squirm, but instead kisses him back with a hunger made up of adrenaline, he bites down at the corner of Adam’s mouth and draws blood before they’re breaking apart, and Adam is gone, with only the memory of the taste of Langa’s mouth and the sight of his blood on those pretty, pink lips.

* * *

Langa isn’t a cruel person by any means, in fact, some would even say he’s  _ too  _ caring and empathetic for others. Everything about him was delicate to those who didn’t know him, and sometimes, even to those who did. 

He helped Miya with homework, gave Shadow (somewhat bad) relationship advice, and he had even gotten Sketchy to stop biting him so that he could hold and cuddle him without fear of his little teeth sinking into his hand or arm.

His kindness was something that was spoken of constantly, but even then it was apparent that something had changed since S, since his unfinished race with Adam. It was subtle, at first, a blank stare here and a gentle rub at his chest there, but it grew into something that terrified Reki.

He felt like an outsider looking in, unable to change what had already begun.

Langa wasn’t a monster, but Adam was going to turn him into one.

* * *

Sitting on the counter at DOPE, Langa was quietly doing homework, carefully ignoring the way Reki was staring at him. It wasn’t the look he was used to, the one he sometimes returned, full of a love that surpassed that of friendship, but lately Langa found it hard to be on the receiving end of his friend’s affections, and he found that he couldn’t return them either.

It formed some small gap between them, one small enough to still build over and to get close again, but Langa was unused to it and Reki was too cautious to try.

Now, Reki stared at him differently, the same worried look he’d given him after the skate with Adam, layered with a heavy dose of caution. When he looked at Langa like that, it made him feel dangerous.

He knows he’s not, he knows he’s a good person (as far as being a good person goes), but no matter how many times he says that to himself, his mind supplies him with all the times he wasn’t.

The small twinges of joy he took from watching Reki fall when he was skating, after Reki’s race with Adam, he remembered being so pissed, he’d gone too far, he could have killed Reki, but he’d been enticed too.

The sound of Reki’s fear-soaked screams, the smell of his blood as he’d cradled his body in his arms, down to the way he started to cry when he looked at Langa, looking so  _ broken  _ as he whispered that he lost, as he apologized for something they all knew would end in failure. 

He thinks of him and Adam’s kiss, although he told no one of it, he could still taste Adam’s blood in his mouth, coppery and thick on his tongue, paired with the faint taste of a cigarette smoked long before their beef and something else, something sweeter.

The roses he’d given him were in his room, sitting in a vase and soaked in water with a little alka-seltzer tab floating in the bottom to keep them bloomed for as long as he could. The man was  _ dramatic,  _ he treated their race like it was something else, something  _ more,  _ not just a challenge and a chance to show off, like Reki’s.

No, he and Reki’s race had been a  _ warning,  _ a warning to anyone who looked him in the eyes and tried to best him at  _ his  _ game. That’s what S truly was, a game, but it must have grown boring or inadequate if Adam had stopped descending from his tower, becoming something of legend in his own right.

_ Our skate,  _ Langa thought, as he solved a simple equation, eyes drifting away from his paper and ignoring Reki’s eyes as he finally came to a conclusion. 

_ Our skate was like a date. _

* * *

They ran into each other by accident. Langa usually isn’t in the business district, but that day he was for some arbitrary thing that he probably didn’t even need but really wanted when he saw him.

He was wearing a suit, and Langa almost didn’t identify him, his eyes would have completely drifted over the man if it wasn’t for those eyes. 

So  _ red, _ and beautiful. The same colour as his blood, the iron and richness of it on Langa’s tongue was one he’d never forget, and when their eyes met, Langa knew he must have been thinking about it too if the way his pupils dilated was any indication.

The men he was surrounded by didn’t seem to notice the waver in Adam’s attention before their eye contact was broken.

Langa spared himself another second or two to just watch Adam before he slipped away. 

On the way home, he nearly got hit by a car. It had been just a hair’s breadth away, swerving around him and righting itself even as the horn blew and the driver yelled back at him angrily. 

Hurriedly, he’d crossed the street and made his way home, unable to stop the pounding in his chest, the adrenaline of having nearly died coursing through him. It was almost comparable to his race with Adam but something was missing and he knew what it was.

It didn’t have that deliberate thrill, the danger was there but not the incentive, the sharp turns and corners that could send him crashing into solid rock and battering his body. The adrenaline was there but not the means.

He remembered getting home and thinking:  _ “I shouldn’t be hard from that.”  _

It wasn’t what he was focused on, however, he’d been focused on a larger, more blaring sign:  _ “Almost dying wasn’t as exciting as kissing Adam.” _

* * *

“Langa!”

Blue eyes landed in amber, Reki’s brows furrowed in worry and agitation, shoulders drawn up tensely. His food was untouched and the breeze that flowed at the top of the school building ruffled his hair. 

“You were thinking about it again.”

“About what?”

Reki gritted his teeth and looked away, shoulders drawing up even more around his ears if possible, the worry melting away and making room for more agitation and defensiveness.

“The  _ race,  _ you’re thinking about that damn race-“

Langa’s eyebrows shot up, his attention now completely on the boy in front of him. He looked paler than usual, dark circles beneath his eyes. His washed out complexion made his small scattering of freckles look nearly nonexistent and he  _ still  _ wasn’t eating.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s  _ wrong? _ ” Reki snapped, standing up and swaying on his feet before planting them, steeling himself as he glared down at Langa.

“Well, let’s take a look at the fucking  _ growing list  _ of problems!” Langa climbed to his feet, standing a small distance away from Reki. He wondered how long it had been building, this reaction. His frame seemed a little thinner, laced with stress.

“Mom’s sick, so I’m taking care of the girls. That’s fine, I can handle them, but I have to work extra hours to get medicine and I  _ can’t work too many because I’m a minor,  _ you- _ you  _ are being preyed on by some crazed lunatic!” Reki’s voice grew into an angered shout that echoed across the empty space, but he seemed to be either none the wiser of this or he simply didn’t care. 

“Reki-“

“He is going to  _ kill you,  _ Langa! He’s going to-“ Reki cut himself off and Langa saw it then, beneath the outward anger and irritation he could see the sadness and fear that lingered just under it all.

“He won’t kill me, I’m not going to die, I.. I won’t end up like your last friend, don’t you remember what I said?” Langa took a few steps closer, reaching for Reki’s hand, but the boy yanked it away before they could touch. It sent a hurt through Langa’s chest, a  _ bad  _ one. He’d been neglecting Reki and their friendship, even if he hadn’t realised. 

“How do you know that?”

Langa almost lied, he almost said something vague and without substance, just to make Reki feel somewhat better but he knew that it wouldn’t help and that Reki didn’t deserve that. 

“I kissed him.” 

The words were said into silence and followed by them, Reki’s eyes slowly widening as horror grew in them. He opened his mouth to speak before closing it, looking both shocked and disgusted and something else that Langa didn’t want to identify. 

“You—? Did he- did he  _ force-? _ ”

“No, no, Reki, I-... he kissed me, I kissed him back. It was as simple as that.”

To his credit, Reki didn’t say whatever harsh things were floating around in his head, even if some of them reflected in his earnest eyes. He seemed to be struggling to find what to say, and then simply settled on:

“You like him.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Reki made a face, it was somewhat painful but mostly resigned, as if he’d already known what he was saying to have been true. 

“You don’t need to.”

“I don’t.. I don’t understand-“

“The way you look, when you think about that race-“ Reki shakes his head, arms wrapping around himself protectively, from  _ Langa,  _ and the hurt is harder to ignore now. It’s a pain like a twisting knife, and it makes Langa bite his lip to stop himself from whimpering.

“You enjoyed it.”

“I-“ Lies were poised on the tip of his tongue and then it really  _ hit  _ Langa, that he was about to lie to Reki, that this was the second time he’d consciously considered it. In a span of not even fifteen minutes, he was going to lie to the boy who had nothing but honest with him, who had gotten him a job within days of knowing him, who  _ trusted him  _ for some unknown reason. 

Reki didn’t trust easy, Langa didn’t need Reki to say it, he knew that his life had been hard in a way that Langa’s own wasn’t. 

“I’m sorry.” He finally manages, the words are honest and real, and he’s shuffling his feet a little in that way he often does when he’s uncomfortable. Reki’s eyes darted to his feet, and then back up to Langa’s face, searching. He found whatever he was looking for if the way he sighed was any indication. It was full of exasperation, tiredness, but beneath all of that was unmistakable relief.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I know you-.. I know you didn’t  _ ask  _ to be on Adam’s radar even if you don’t seem to.. mind.” He bit the words out, like he was fighting them every step of the way. 

“I should have paid more attention to you instead of being so out of it.” Langa responded honestly, eyebrows drawn into a low line over his eyes, just as pale as his eyelashes and his hair. 

“You’ve been going through enough, you don’t need to add Adam to that on top of everything else.” Reki winced before shrugging, ruffling his hair.

“I just worry. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“It’ll be okay,” Langa isn’t sure if that’s a lie or not. “Let’s eat, you look really pale.”

Reki gives him a look that’s harder to read, that’s almost too harsh in the light of the sun. Eventually, he nods and they settle back down. Langa throws himself into being a mother hen, takes some comfort in the normality of it. Reki isn’t all that good at taking care of himself, not because he  _ can’t  _ but because there’s often too much on his already overflowing plate.

Meals get traded in for work, school or otherwise, practice, his family, and S. 

S wasn’t an obligation but Langa always counted it, because sometimes it felt like one. Or maybe that was just Langa, maybe it was only an obligation to  _ him.  _ After all, Reki wasn’t the one under the scrutiny under the man who created it. 

_ But he hurt him,  _ a little voice in his head provides and Langa shudders when he sees the scar on Reki’s wrist from Adam’s treatment, he can remember the look on his mother’s face when he saw her after. Shock and fear, the same look his mother gave him when he comes home with the skatepark covered in bruises and cuts. 

Langa pushes the thought out of his head, tries to keep it at bay as he focuses on Reki, and hopes that things will change for the better.

* * *

Heat.

Heat like fire, like a cruel summer’s day, like a curse beneath his skin and on his lips. The taste of iron is on his tongue, the heat  _ inside  _ of him, pushing him closer and closer and-

Langa sits up before can even get his eyes open, clutching his sheets. They’re wet with sweat and so are his clothes, his covers have been kicked away and when he looks down, he’s embarrassingly hard. Looking away, Langa pushed a hand through his slick hair and grimaces, his grossly sticky and his erection is actually starting to  _ hurt,  _ which is about as off-putting as he expected. 

He can still taste the blood, still feel the tendrils of heat as it leaks away in his cool bedroom. Reaching down between his legs, Langa presses the heel of his hand to the bulge in his boxers and whimpers softly, arching up into it.

He shouldn’t, not when he knows who he was dreaming about. Maybe if he’d still been dreaming of Reki, he wouldn’t feel so guilty, a little awkward, but not like  _ this. _

He slips a hand under his boxers to touch himself fully and gasps at how slick his cock is with pre-cum and knows it’s no use lying to himself about how much he wanted it— how much he  _ wants it. _

He could still remember how it felt to have Adam inside of him in the dream, could feel his mouth against his, his eyes staring down at him-

Langa’s orgasm takes him by surprise and he just barely manages to muffle himself, arching up into his hand and shuddering through the pleasure wracking his frame.

_ It doesn’t mean anything, _ he told himself, as he was washing his hands and changing his sheets. _ Boys my age have dreams like that all the time. _

Adam is just objectively attractive, anyway, with those long eyelashes and his pretty mouth, not to mention his voice- 

Langa gasped as his cock twitched and he decided to not think about how Adam looked either.

* * *

He’s walking through the business district again when a black car pulls up beside him. It’s familiar and Langa knows who it is before it even slows to a stop. He stops beside it as the window rolls down, and he looks at Adam, he looks different. His eyes are softer without the harshness of S, he’s young— younger than his voice would imply. 

“Would you like to get in, Mr. Hasegawa?” Langa isn’t surprised that Adam knows his last name, nor is he surprised that he found him.

Nodding, just once, the car door opens and Langa is slipping inside. It smells like something sweet, confectionary, and underneath that is Adam’s cologne.

“Adam-“

The man’s eyebrows go up and he shakes his head slightly. “Please, call we Shindō when we aren’t at S, Langa.”

His name rolls off of his tongue sweetly. It’s not like how he says it at S, with that edge of crazed obsession and overwhelming lust. It’s sweeter, like he’s trying to savour it.

“I didn’t interrupt you or anything, did I? This is the second time I’ve saw you around here.”

“No, just walking.” It’s a half-lie, Langa had been just walking, a sudden urge that struck him where he’d typically be skating or napping since he was off. Now that he sat across from Shindō, he knew it was because he’d been hoping the man would be there. Whether it was coincidence or not, Langa wouldn’t question, instead taking the chance to observe Shindō.

He was a rather attractive man, even with his hair combed back, some stubborn locks curling around his forehead. It was hard to compare this man to the one that was seen at S, he didn’t look as at ease in a suit and tie as he did flying down the sharp corners and edges of the track.

Shindō nodded, staring openly at Langa. Being stared at had always made him uncomfortable, he felt like a bit of a spectacle with his overly pale skin and white hair, never quite feeling like he  _ was  _ Japanese as well as Canadian, but rather like he didn’t fit into a category at all, but Shindō didn’t stare at him like that.

He looked at him like he was smitten, even if it bordered on creepy at times. He, like Reki, seemed to find his white hair to be a marvel. Shindō’s hands had been rough on his body, not touching him with the fragility most did. Shindō wasn’t afraid to bruise him, he knew just how to push Langa and the boy  _ loved  _ it.

“Your birthday just passed recently, did it not?” Shindō asked suddenly and part of Langa wasn’t even surprised to note that he just  _ knew  _ that. Maybe there’s something wrong with Langa, that he can see the affection inside of Shindō’s odd actions. 

“It did, I’m eighteen now.” Not that his age had stopped him from kissing Langa before. 

“Happy birthday, Langa.” Shindō wishes softly, resting his cheek against his knuckles, looking at Langa in a manner that was unfairly soft. “Is there anything you want?”

It’s a subtle remark about his wealth, the amount of money he has, but not in a boastful manner that would have put him off or that he’d found himself expecting from Shindō based on his love of thrill and theatrics.

Langa briefly considers that he could really ask for anything, and Shindō would provide but there’s really only  _ one  _ thing that he wants..

“Can I have a kiss?” 

Shindō’s eyebrows raise and his lips part a little in surprise, he’s terribly expressive and it amuses Langa to see, especially given his flair for the dramatic.

“Of course.”

He left his seat to sit beside Langa, looking at the boy oddly. Gently, he rested a hand against Langa’s cheek and traced his thumb under Langa’s mouth, gently pressing the pad against his lip before drawing it away. 

Langa had imagined the kiss would be a hungry one, like the one they shared before, but this one was softer and sweeter, a careful prodding of his tongue and pulls of his teeth against Langa’s bottom lip. 

“Happy birthday, Langa.” Shindō whispered against his mouth as he broke the kiss, staring into Langa’s eyes. 

“Thank you. Can I have another?”

He liked the way Shindō’s eyes darkened.

When Langa stumbled from the car, having been driven home, his lips were a swollen red and they were sensitive to the touch, his neck was riddled with marks that he’d have to hide and he was aching between his legs.

Shindō’s goodbye kiss had been tender and deep, licking into Langa’s mouth and pressing him into the window until neither could breathe before he was willing to let him go.

_ “See you around.”  _ He’d said, and he hadn’t even needed to ask for Langa’s address.

Stepping in, Langa was glad to note that the car hadn’t been in the driveway which meant his mother wasn’t home. Even though Shindō hadn’t had the pretty black-haired man that’d been driving pull up to the front door, he still wouldn’t have been able to explain why he had shown up covered in hickeys. Toeing off his shoes, Langa stepped out of the genkan and into the foyer, pushing his hair back as he made his way to his bedroom.

Pausing in front of his vanity, Langa frowned as he leaned into the mirror, looking himself over. He had bites on his neck that were already purpling thanks to Shindō’s unnaturally sharp teeth. His lips were red and bruised, when he dragged his tongue across them, all he could think about was how Shindō had bitten at them.

His hair was messy from Shindō’s hands in it, he looked bright and good and well taken care of. 

Dropping down into the chair, ignoring the tingling heat that still shot through him with every jostle, Langa leaned back and covered his face with his hands.

He couldn’t stay away from that, he  _ wasn’t  _ going to stay away after that. 

“Fuck it,” Langa muttered, dropping his hands into his lap to stare into the mirror, to take in the boy he saw looking back. “Fuck it.”

* * *

Reki hates when he sees when he looks in Langa’s eyes. They aren’t empty or angry but they’re not  _ his,  _ they aren’t the eyes of the Canadian boy who’s accent was still so thick around his Japanese and who spoke English on accident.

That wasn’t  _ his Langa,  _ because his Langa was still a bit wobbly on a skateboard and insisted on helmets. This Langa was gaining so much air that it scared Reki, this Langa could do the trick Adam had done and do it  _ well. _

Still, he got up bright and early every morning to meet Langa, never late because he wanted to see his eyes light up the way they still did when he saw Reki. It was hard though, because he wasn’t happy when he saw Langa anymore. 

He felt something like.. anger. Resentment, even, towards the boy he once found himself slipping into love with. 

Love disappeared slowly under the ugly emotions Reki didn’t want to think about. 

Between S and school and home, the reminder that Langa was  _ better,  _ he was smarter and more well liked. The jealousy ate at his insecurities like acid, leaving something bitter and heartbroken in its place.

Needless to say, Reki’s days tended to be  _ bad  _ rather than  _ good,  _ and he wasn’t giving his best fake smile when he saw it.

He and Langa still skated to school together as if they were both clinging on to the idea of normalcy and refused to give it up but this had never been a part of their normalcy. Reki almost hadn’t noticed but Langa was so pale, any and all bruises and scrapes stood out on his fair skin. 

It was a bite right beneath his jaw, sucked dark and purple. He couldn’t stop himself from cutting Langa off and narrowly avoiding sending them both crashing in a heap to grab Langa lightly by the wrist. Even with all the hurt and anger, he didn’t want to bring any harm to the boy and he had a feeling he never would.

“Where’d that come from?”

“Where’d what come from?” Langa asked, eyebrows pinching in question and Reki scowled as he brushed a trembling hand over the hickey. The pale boy jerked back, eyes widening before he slapped a hand over it and looked away, hunching his shoulders.

“Nowhere.” He finally grumbled, looking towards the sky before he looked back at Reki. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

For a moment, Reki almost argued back,  _ demanded  _ to know but Langa was closing himself off, and if he pushed too far he knew he wouldn’t be let back in. His lips thinned into a harsh line across his face as he rolled his shoulders and skated away.

Some things were best left unknown anyway. 

* * *

Sometimes it felt like life was putting a gun in Langa’s hand and telling him to spare someone, to not let them live out of mercy and to kiss the corpse on their still warm mouth.

He never said a name, never described a face but Langa always turned the gun on Reki.

Every damn time. 

Hurt and confusion swirled in his chest and even Shindō’s talented and warm mouth couldn't soothe it.

“I don’t want to leave him behind.” Langa admitted once as he sat in Shindō’s lap, head on the man’s shoulder. “I don’t want him to think I abandoned him.” 

Shindō didn’t respond, just rested his cheek against the top of Langa’s head and gently ran his knuckles up and down Langa’s spine. 

“I know you don’t, you have such a sweet and loving heart..” The man started softly, turning his nose into Langa’s hair. “But sometimes you stop being a match for the people that you loved.”

Reki had been his though, for a moment, when he was just the weird Canadian kid with a bad Japanese accent.

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“I know.” Adam kissed the top of his head and tightened his grip on him. “I know.”

* * *

“Reki- Please, just let me talk to you.” Langa’s staring at him with those big, blue eyes, wide and shiny like a puppy’s. He still had that damn hickey but luckily no others seemed to have shown up over the last two days in which they’d been avoiding one another.

“What is it, Langa?” Reki gritted out, feeling bad almost immediately when he saw Langa flinch back, as if his words were a physical hit. 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” He started, pushing his hair back in a way that Reki knew was a nervous tic, his own way of exerting the reckless energy fizzing through his veins. “I just want to talk to you because I don’t know why.”

Reki tensed, because  _ how couldn’t he know why?  _ Wasn’t it obvious enough, between Langa’s odd interest in Adam, his effortless ease at being good at everything, wasn’t it obvious?

“I just.. I miss you.” Langa ended softly, hands gripping the shoulder strap of his book bag as he awkwardly shifted his feet. He looked the part of a kicked puppy, hurt and confused but still coming back to Reki to know the why and how.

“You.. you don’t know?” Reki asked, eyebrows rising incredulously. When Langa shook his head, Reki could have almost laughed. He didn’t  _ know.  _ How could he not know?

“You.. We just don’t fit anymore.” Reki started, voice going blank as he pushed everything he felt out in an attempt to keep the anger and jealousy from flooding his tone. “Don’t you see that everyone loves you now?”

Langa was staring at him with wide eyes, shaking his head. “Reki, I don’t-“

“And then there’s  _ Adam- _ “

“You knew? I didn’t think— I didn’t think anyone knew-“

“ _ Knew?  _ Knew  _ what!? _ ” Reki yelled and Langa hurriedly backed away, looking around the empty street before looking back at Reki.

“Nothing.”

Reki’s eyes flared with heat and all the pain he felt came rushing out.

“Nothing? Fucking  _ nothing?  _ You want me to tell you what’s wrong and you won’t even-“ Reki wrenched a hand into his own hair, dropping his hand down to his side to clench in a fist.

“Tell me the truth, Langa.”

For a moment, Reki thinks Langa is going to walk away, but instead he reaches up and traces his fingers over the mark on his jaw and a pained look comes to his face.

“It’s from Adam.” 

A ringing seemed to slowly fill Reki’s ears and his eyebrow twitched, the corners of his mouth deepening into a frown as he shook his head.

“I said the truth, Langa.” 

The albino boy is raking his hands through his hair again and muttering in French under his breath. He doesn’t want to believe it, he  _ can’t  _ believe it but, it makes sense, doesn’t it? 

“I-I warned you to  _ stay away  _ from him, Langa! And now what, you’re screwing him?” Reki asks, taking a step forward that makes Langa take one back.

“I’m not screwing him! We just-“

“Has he been teaching you to skate?” Reki asks suddenly, cutting Langa off quickly. Langa looked as overwhelmed as he felt, his bright eyes unable to find something to focus on as he scanned over Reki’s hands and his face.

“No, we just talk-“

Reki sends a pointed look to Langa’s neck and he quickly covers the mark. They both fall quiet, the air between them tense and heavy, Reki’s hands clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles were turning white where the skin was pulled taut.

“I just don’t want to lose you.” Langa said softly. “Adam is such an exciting person to skate with but you’re my-“

“Exciting? You think that’s crazy asshole is-“

“Reki!” Langa snapped and the redhead went wide-eyed and quiet, panting harshly into the warm summer air.

“Don’t-.. Please don’t call him that, I know you aren’t-“

“Oh, not this  _ sympathy for the Devil  _ shit, he’s getting into your head, Langa, manipulating you when he’s an admittedly terrible person!”

“What the hell-“

“He could have killed me! He could have killed me if he wanted to and you’re all over him!”

“But he didn’t!”

“Fuck you, Langa! Fuck you!” 

Langa pushed his hair back, hands clenched in it as his breathing sped up. He looked panicked and unsure, reaching out to Reki before yanking his hand back as if he were burned.

“Wait, Reki-“

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” Reki's voice was deep with anger as he shouldered past Langa, the anger in him burning too deeply for him to feel guilty about leaving the boy there. 

He was still angry when he got home, but the thought of skating off the aggressive energy like he typically would have just reminded him of Langa and he cut the thought away. 

“He chose him over me,” Reki told himself as he threw his skateboard aside once he made it to his bedroom.

“He chose  _ him. _ ”

* * *

He went to Shindō, because his mom felt too far away and only he would truly understand what it was like. He went to Shindō because he kissed his cheeks even when they were wet with tears, he came to him because he nearly broke a speeding law when he heard Langa hyperventilating over the phone.

He went to Shindō because he didn’t make him feel guilty. 

Langa could be irrevocably  _ himself  _ with the man, and he would face no judgement. 

He laughed at Langa’s dark humour, jokes of death and trauma, he liked it when Langa would kiss his cheeks and nose and tickle him with his eyelashes. 

Langa found that while he still hated the sight of blood, feeling Adam’s mouth against him, his tongue as he lapped and drank, was more than enough sway to let the man bite and suckle as much as he wanted. It was something he was willing to give, especially when it left that burning ache behind.

“Shh, it’s okay.. Cry as much as you need to.” Shindō had whispered to him, soft and sweet in his ears as he held Langa, his arms wrapped securely around his waist and his chin atop his head.

Langa was done crying now, but Shindō hadn’t stopped holding him and his arms stayed and his warmth felt so good compared to Reki’s fire and vitriol. 

“I miss him.” Langa mutters softly into Shindō’s chest, eyes closed. He could hear the man’s heart beating in his chest, a steady and calm reminder that he was safe. 

“I know, darling. Let’s get you home.”

“No! No-“ Langa wrapped his arms around Adam, hating his uncharacteristic clinginess but the thought of being alone felt too big and horrifying in that moment. 

He didn’t need to see Adam to see his shocked face, and the man hesitated a moment before squeezing him gently and nodding.

“Okay.”

_ He’s staying,  _ Langa found himself thinking,  _ he’s staying. _

* * *

Tail swaying, green eyes focused on the tension between the boys in front of himself. Langa’s usual grace is gone and replaced with an unnatural stiffness that makes his pretty face look drawn, and a little older, his once bright eyes looking muddied.

Reki was similar, though he kept a forced smile on his face as he greeted people (the ones who knew his name) while Langa’s cold exterior kept anyone from approaching him directly, though the occasional whisper caught Miya’s ears.

_ “Snow looks pissed, doesn’t he?” _

_ “Oh shit, we’d better stay out of Snow’s way..” _

_ “He looks fucking hot when he’s angry.” _

If Langa heard them, he didn’t react, just kept quiet and closed off. Miya frowned as he gathered himself, looking between them before he veered himself towards Reki, skating alongside him quietly.

Langa sent a look that he couldn’t read, eyes facing forward before he was accelerating and leaving the both of them behind. Miya watched him, though the tension didn’t seem to leave his shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” Miya wasted no time asking as soon as Langa was out of earshot, watching Reki out the side of his eye. The boy’s lips thinned and his eyebrow twitched, a tell, and he looked up in the direction Langa had gone in.

The emotion on his face is poignant, and Miya has to look away. The anger is a mask and it’s a mask that Miya also wears, but it’s a misshapen and cracked thing, it barely fits.

“It’s Langa, isn’t it?” Miya answers, feeling almost weightless on his board, like he’s flying lightly and airily across the ground. “He’s changed, he’s — no, he hasn’t changed, he’s just.. different.”

“Different?” Reki looks at Miya out of the corner of his eyes with a scowl before he’s glaring back at the direction Langa had went. “He’s gone, Langa’s gone.”

Miya didn’t respond, just watched Reki skate away like hellfire was on his heels. 

The boy watched, feeling as if he was observing something he shouldn’t. Reki and Langa felt like forever, but then again, Miya had felt the same way about his own friends.

Maybe forever really didn’t exist. 

* * *

People didn’t have beefs with Langa often, in fact, most  _ avoided  _ him as often as they could after watching him go toe to toe with Adam. On occasion, however, there tended to be the odd few who wanted to call Langa’s bluff, usually those new to S.

Langa doesn’t know what made him accept at first until they were at the starting line. He wanted to prove himself, he wanted to show Reki that he was still  _ good enough  _ for him. The flag and the buzzer are all on the background as they both take off.

Langa doesn’t waste time, barely has to dig his heels in to get ahead and only slows down to give his competitor a fight but it’s lacklustre and mediocre at best. He almost gets complacent and then the other is ramming his board into Langa’s and the boy finds the small jolt is all he needs for something to just  _ click. _

Skating against them will never be like skating like Shindō,  _ never,  _ but Langa won’t go down without a fight. It’s his  _ pride  _ that makes him up his game a bit, not too much, and the fear in the boy’s eyes sends an unexpected thrill through Langa.

What does it matter if he can’t prove anything to Reki, he knows Shindō is watching, and he can prove it to  _ him. _

Langa doesn’t respond in kind, instead, he plants his feet and narrows his eyes, a familiar rush of calm sweeping through him. Twisting, he sends his board spinning in a careful spiral, cutting off the other and putting himself in front, crouching and dragging his fingers against the ground. Sparks kicked up, painting his hair gold for a moment before it melts back into that mesmerizing colour and he was like a  _ ghost,  _ and the boy startled, slipping on his board, too much speed,  _ blood spraying— _

Langa forced himself to a stop as the boy’s body went still on the ground. A hush seemed to fall over S as they all held their collective breath.

Langa hates blood and it’s pooling beneath the boy’s prone body, he doesn’t even know his  _ name,  _ just that one moment he was on his board and the next—

He doesn’t feel connected to his body, his mind isn’t there, there’s so much fucking  _ blood,  _ blood that stains the ground, that paints snow red, that smells like iron and cold.

Langa steps off of his board, effectively forfeiting as he sinks down beside the boy, leaning down and resting his ear against his chest. 

For a moment, he can’t hear anything over his own rushing blood, and then there’s a faint  _ thump, thump, thump  _ and relief is like a cold rain on Langa’s flushed body.

Sitting up, Langa glanced towards one of the screens where he could see himself displayed over the seemingly lifeless body before he nodded.

Over as soon as it had started, but Langa couldn’t stop the guilt that ate at him. He could have killed this boy, very well could have damaged him despite  _ that  _ but he couldn’t place why he didn’t feel worse.

Maybe it was the shock numbing him, or that there was something grievously wrong with him, but as the boy was gathered up by his friends who all gave Langa hesitant and almost fearful nods of respect, he knew he may have broken something irreversibly.

* * *

“He didn’t die.” 

Langa looks up at Miya, who’s looking both innocent and ominous. They were the only ones alone in the back room of DOPE.

“The boy, Ronnie, that you skated against- he didn’t die, he’s got a concussion but he’ll live.” Miya explained and Langa sank into the couch. His relief was palpable, his head was in his hands as his hair hung around his face. His shoulders were trembling but Miya couldn’t tell if he was actually crying or just overwhelmed. There was nothing but relief in seeing Langa react so candidly, and so  _ humanly.  _ Concern about the accident and relied upon hearing that he was still alive. 

_ Adam would have laughed,  _ Miya thinks as he sits down next to Langa, rubbing a hand up and down his back to soothe him.  _ He would’ve just laughed.  _

“I didn’t mean to do it.” Langa started softly, Canadian accent thick as he shook his head a little, looking at Miya with red and watery eyes. His nose was starting to turn pink, and his cheeks were flushed.

“I-I just cut him off and then he was falling and- there was so much blood, I didn’t  _ mean to,  _ I don’t want to hurt anyone.” He was working himself up again, Miya hadn’t realized how shaken up the boy had been until that moment. He was still trembling and his eyes were red and dark underneath, the half-moon bruises drawing in Miya’s attention.

“Langa, you don’t have to talk about it-“

“But I  _ do!  _ It was the same way with my Dad, if I don’t talk about it, I can pretend it didn’t.. didn’t happen.”

That’s the first blatant mention of Langa’s father that Miya’s ever heard. He’s shocked but he tries not to let it show on his face but Langa isn’t paying him any mind, his eyes are glazing over.

“I just wanted to show Reki that I was good enough.” His white hair was like a stormcloud instead of a halo, and his watering eyes were rain. 

“I wanted to show him and instead I almost killed someone. I-I’m- He was right, I’m not the person I used to be, I-“

“Langa-“

“I need to go. I have to go.”

Miya’s never seen Langa run away, not from Adam, but maybe he’s been running away from himself for a while and no one ever bothered to see it.

He leaves the room quickly, a whirlwind of confusion and sadness, and Miya feels Langa slipping away from them all in the worst of ways.

* * *

Shindō’s mouth, Shindō’s hands, his cologne and the cigarette smoke undertone,  _ Shindō Shindō Shindō.. _

He surrounded Langa with his presence, kisses and rough grinding like they were  _ both  _ teenagers and not just the boy in his lap. Shindō’s hands were steadying on his hips and when he moaned, Shindō would kiss him harder. 

It was all a distraction though, from losing Reki, from Ronnie who was out of the hospital, from the worried looks his mom gave him. 

He could distract himself, he was good at that, and Shindō was so willing to give. 

They kissed until their mouths were sore and then Shindō just held him. He kept his arms around him, kept Langa in his lap as he finally spoke after a few moments of silence.

“Race with me?”

It wasn’t an offer for a beef, but Langa tensed regardless of that.

“With everyone watching..?”

“No, by our lonesome. I think that could help.”

“Shindō, I almost killed him—“

“I’ve done worse during a race. You know this, I did it to.. Reki.” 

Langa remembered that clearly, how could he forget? But it was a stark reminder that Shindō was dangerous, that he’d hurt people for fun, that he liked making Langa bleed, but he was always.. gentle. 

Gentle like a bruise is, painful but pretty in shades of blues and greens and yellows, like the bruises beneath Langa’s eyes, like the ones that mar his neck that he doesn’t even bother hiding anymore.

His mother thinks he’s got some nice girl waiting somewhere when it’s a man with influence and power at the young age of twenty-four, but Langa’s eighteen and he doesn’t think Shindō is too old; he’s just right.

“Okay, let’s race.”

  
  


Shindō doesn’t bother with dramatics, they find someone secluded with sharp turns and broken glass and skate. It’s just as dangerous and thrilling, when Adam slams his skateboard into Langa’s, he tilts onto his toes and pleasure jolts through him and he thinks  _ “it’s like fucking without the mess”  _ not that he knows much about sex given that he’s a virgin. Shindō grips his hip and his hand spans his stomach and then he’s spinning them both.

Langa throws himself into it, gritting his teeth as he puts one foot back on Shindō’s board, grabbing the man’s arm and  _ spinning  _ them, effectively forcing them to switch boards.

It makes Shindō gasp, and Langa is unsteady on the man’s board but Shindō is confused by his board as well. Langa forces himself to steady and he leaves Shindō in the dust.

When Shindō comes around the corner a few minutes after Langa, board in his hands, his eyes are dark and his eyebrows are drawn. It makes no sense, he looks angry and Langa tenses, expecting a fight but then Shindō is pushing him against the fence and kissing him hard and hungry. 

He kisses Langa until the boy can’t breathe, he can feel how hard he is against his thigh and Shindō’s hands are tight in his hair. 

“You,” He growls out, voice deep and wrecked sounding, “look fucking delicious on my board..” He pins Langa, their boards laying in a heap on the ground. 

Teeth against his neck, the familiar burn of Shindō’s teeth breaking skin as they kiss and grind.

Langa’s glad they’re alone, it’s only for Shindō’s eyes that he falls apart like this. With a flushed face and whimpering, his hair messy and his hips moving in their own accord.

He finishes by accident in his pants, but Shindō doesn’t laugh, he just moans and kisses him some more.

When they’re going back to the car and Langa is awkwardly shuffling in his wet clothes, Shindō holds his hand tightly the whole time.

* * *

There are better people to fall in love with than Shindō, but there used to be Reki and now he isn’t there anymore. Miya was more like a kid sibling to Langa without all the fighting and being forced to share a parent, and he can’t see Cherry and Joe the same way— he can’t understand them like he can understand Shindō or Shindō can understand him.

Shindō, who blows his cigarette smoke in the opposite direction of Langa, who kisses the marks he leaves behind with sweetness and care, who didn’t leave when Langa didn’t feel like  _ Langa  _ anymore.

During dinner, he would eat with a little smile on his face at the thought of the man. It eased the lines of his mother’s face to see it, but it probably wouldn’t ease her so much if she knew..

“Mama,” He catches her eye and twirls his fork uncomfortably between his fingers, looking down at his bowl of half-eaten salad.

“Yes, honey?” She was giving him her full attention (because the therapist said that Langa needed it, that losing his father was a serious trauma and he needed to know he still had his mother too).

“I think I’m bi. Uhm. Bisexual.” He looked up quickly, caught her shocked expression as it morphed into a soft smile.

“Thank you for telling me.” She reached across the table and gently patted his arm, rubbing it after with an affectionate smile on her face. 

“You’re welcome.” And then the conversation is over, and everything is kind of okay knowing that she knows that and she wasn’t disappointed.

A moment or so passed before she spoke again.

“Your father was bisexual.” She was looking at her plate, smiling a little. “Your godfather is his boyfriend from high school.”

Langa’s eyes went wide with surprise and mom laughed a little, looking pleased.

They spend the rest of the night talking about Langa’s father, and he doesn’t mention Shindō, but for once the man isn’t the only thing keeping him steady.

* * *

Reki’s mom doesn’t understand her only son all that well, it would be easier if his father was around, if the divorce hadn’t stolen that too, but she understands love very well.

She knows the ins and outs of it, knows that it can heal and it can hurt, but that’s just how it is having such a loving heart. Reki’s like her that way, he loves and feels so unconditionally that his heart breaks a little everyday, she knows. 

She hasn’t seen his albino friend in a while, and she can connect the dots.

She knows heartbreak when she sees it because that’s what being a good mother is, it’s knowing when her baby needs space and time and it’s knowing when he needs a cup of tea and silence.

That’s what she offers, because it’s easier to drink something than to eat. He doesn’t say anything, just stares down into his cup and huffs a little before taking a sip.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Okay.”

And sometimes it's easier to just say nothing at all. 

* * *

When Langa comes back to S, he walks up to Ronnie in front of everyone and says softly, only for the other to hear.

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

The boy’s eyes go a little wide, standing there trying to take in everything about him.

His white hair is a little longer, brushing beneath his jaw now, and his neck is covered in bites and hickeys as if a vampire had had its way with him. He was tall and cold, he smelled clean and not unlike a cold breeze.

“Thank you.” Ronnie finally manages and then he smiles, just a bit, a little tilt of the corner of his mouth and he suddenly isn’t so scary anymore.

“Snow!” A voice calls and then all the warmth in his smile disappears and it’s replaced by something removed and polite and cold. 

Ronnie flinched away, feeling the dull pain of his concussion throbbing as a redheaded boy approached Langa. His jaw was clenched and his eyes blazed, though Langa was the complete opposite. His gaze never wavered even though his mouth was set into a thin line across his face.

“Reki,” He started and the boy’s nose twitched in a manner not dissimilar to a rabbit.

“I’m challenging you to a beef.”

_ That  _ makes Snow react, his eyes go wide and his stance widens a bit, his brow furrowing. 

“I accept.” 

If the redhead is surprised it doesn’t show on his face. They’re the first beef of the night and the crowd is ecstatic. 

Ronnie feels uneasy.

* * *

Langa doesn’t know what to say so he says nothing, he accepts Reki’s beef even when it makes Miya stare at him in shock and to see that unfamiliar disappointment on Cherry and Joe’s faces.

It doesn’t matter, it  _ doesn’t matter. _

He has to.

He tried to prove to Reki that he was good, that he still wanted to be by his side but when he looks into those amber eyes, he doesn’t  _ see  _ a friend anymore. He sees anger and betrayal, and Langa knows he didn’t betray Reki in any way but it still stings.

The countdown doesn’t make Langa’s heart race like it usually does, instead, it fills him with dread.

The flag feels like finality as it cuts through the air and they both take off.

They start off neck and neck, Reki’s eyes are like fire and Langa is getting burned. It singes him, turns his hair sooty and makes him want to jump off of his board, he wants to forfeit but then—

_ Shindō’s smile, his laugh, his  _ real  _ laugh, the way he softly spoke about Langa over the phone to his aunts’ when he thought the boy had been asleep— _

And now he can’t lose. He won’t lose Shindō if he does, but he knows that he’s watching, he can feel his invisible touch on his skin, he can feel his phantom kisses.

They’re coming up on a sharp turn, and they take it up with ease, and then Reki’s board is grinding against Langa’s in some badly done parody of what Shindō had done, it doesn’t even send Langa fighting for balance on the tips of his toes and he disengages easily because even now, he doesn’t want to hurt Reki.

“Reki!” Langa yelled, righting himself quickly but all that does is piss him off more.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?”

Reki’s eyes narrow and Langa can tell that he’s looking at his neck, at all the bites and bruises.

“Why should I? You’re just going to go running right back to Adam.”

“What does it matter if I want to be with him, Reki? How! How does it matter! I tried to talk to you, to explain, and you didn’t let me!”

“Because he‘s bad for you!”

“Right now, the only thing that’s bad for me is you!” 

The shouted words shut Reki up, his eyes go wide and he’s silent for a few moments.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing that is the last time we’ll ever speak, hm?”

Langa has never experienced heartbreak before.

He’s a virgin and he’s never been in love until now, but— no one ever says how much a  _ friend  _ can break your heart.

There’s no poems or songs, there’s no books or edgy quotes, it’s just an explicit feeling that can only be  _ felt. _

He’s never had sex, but he’s finally experienced love and heartbreak and it’s all happened on his skateboard.

(It reminds him of those figure skaters who fell in love on the ice, maybe to them the ice will always be happiness, maybe to him S will always be pain).

Langa locks eyes with Reki and nods, he has to accept it because he doesn’t know what else to do, and then he ruthlessly cuts him off with his board.

He pushes down all of those big and ugly emotions he was feeling. He hears Reki’s gasp of shock and surprise but he doesn’t hear his body hit the ground. He’d been practicing a way to perfect that without potentially injuring someone in the process.

Faster,  _ further,  _ ignore all the pain or throw it down on the dirt and rock beneath them, until Reki is left behind him and he can only feel the good things, until he’s only feeling the love from Shindō and his mom and he wonders who’s going to get Miya and Shadow in the “divorce” and who’s going to pay for meals without enough money or if Cherry would hire him now even though he’s officially an adult.

So many things he has to sort through, and he’s coming up on the abandoned factory. He can hear Reki behind him, he’s gaining speed, and maybe he’s just as hurt but  _ damnit,  _ Langa’s hurting more because he  _ still  _ doesn’t understand and he  _ still  _ doesn’t hate Reki and his heart just broke for the first time. So, if he can have nothing else,  _ let him fucking have this. _

The grind of his wheels against the metal used to be grating but now it’s lulling, the additional weight of Reki on the straightaway doesn’t even shake Langa.

The stair railing is made to be grinded over but Langa’s going too fast, just enough speed to jump—

And he’s flying, curving his spine backwards and feeling his hair fly in his back from his face before he completes the turn midair and lands. Sparks fly, the crowd is screaming, he crosses the finish line.

Shindō is waiting, but his hair is down and his mask is on, he’s smiling this wide and private smile. Reki crosses the line behind him and stops short at the sight of Adam.

“Snow!” He calls, but unlike Reki, it’s said the way he says Langa’s name, like he’s tasted a piece of his favourite candy and it’s a little bit obsessive but not in the way it used to be. He’s changed too, maybe he won’t ever stop enjoying the fear of others, maybe he won’t ever stop crushing skaters back to back but he’s.. happier.

Even if Langa’s the only one who can see it.

“You’re amazing.” Shindō breathes before kissing Langa in front of everyone, the room gasps and he hears someone call his nickname as he kisses back.

If heartbreak is behind him, at least he’s got love caught by the lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! (and a little side note: I read all the comments I get! Even if I don’t respond, please know that I appreciate them dearly <3)


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